The Opposite of Sweet
by Isclanel
Summary: ."Maybe all perfect couples experienced this." Kurt discovers that pickup lines are not always music to your ears, especially at a Warblers party. Also titled "Blame It On the Pinemon".


**I own nothing Glee. Because if I did, wouldn't I have better things to do other than write fanfics? Yeah, you're right, probably not.**

**Bonus points if you spot the incredibly minor AVPM reference!**

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><p><strong>The Opposite of Sweet (Blame It on the Pinemon)<strong>

"Maybe all perfect couples experienced this."

_Sour. Very, very sour. Almost like biting into a lemon that had been smushed into a pineapple so that it's a weird, sour mutation. Like a lemapple. Or a pinemon. Eck._

Kurt took another tiny sip of the concoction he held in a slim champagne glass. The caramel-coloured liquid was swirling around as he drank.

_I wonder if I look cross-eyed, staring at my drink while its flowing through my lips._

He remembered that this wasn't at all a drink _dolce_, so he stopped musing and jerked the glass away from his mouth. If you think about what should technically happen next, Kurt's hand would have spread out in a not-so-graceful arc outwards, he would have jumped back sharply with his legs glued together (so his feet would have landed in the same spot at the same time), his eyes would have shut tight in a Japanese-anime-girl manner (at which point Kurt probably would have let himself fantasize about possible Naruto-inspired outfits, but this was not at all the time), and he would have done an incredible spit-take worthy of a Oscar (and maybe a Teen Choice Award, if he was lucky).

And of course, the afore-mentioned events played out in the course of about a second and three quarters.

Now, the Warblers were holding a We're-Sad-We-Lost-Regionals-But-It's-Okay-There's-Still-Nursing-Homes-And-Gap-Stores-To-Terrorize party outside one of the main Dalton buildings on an open field. Somebody (Kurt assumed Wes and David) had set up a massive tent as a makeshift roof; it was about the size of massive tent that is used as a makeshift roof. All the Warblers, plus a few staff members and other students, were able to mull around and talk while enjoying complimentary hors d'oeuvres and Sour-Patch-Kids-in-a-Punch.

Kurt happened to be standing at the corner of the tent, and when he jumped back, he rammed into one of the tent poles, causing the entire thing to shake violently. Thankfully it didn't collapse, or all hell would break loose once his hair was ruined.

Wes, who was walking by and happened to be the fortunate receiver of Kurt's spit-spray, wiped his eye with the back of his sleeve. "You know Kurt, there are better ways to say you hate me."

His addressee was still in an awkward spot, looking like an upside-down L with his arm extended in front of him. "I don't hate you, Wes." Then he remembered that Wes and David were the ones who made the punch, and Kurt quickly recovered his glass from it's previous postion, clutched in his hand and tipped precariously to the side. No, of _course _he wasn't expecting the contents to "accidentally" spill out. Sheesh, where would _that _thought have come from?

"You sure?" Wes cocked his head to the side and smirked. Kurt noticed that he was holding an empty glass. "David and I have ways of making you talk."

David and I__. __The sheer inseparability (was there even a word?) of the two was astounding. Kurt simply nodded his head. There was no way to predict when it was or wasn't necessary to take a Wevid threat seriously. "I'm fine, trust me."

The grin on Wes' face was so big, it looked painful. "Great, then! Oh, your glass looks like it needs refilling. I'll do it for you!"

Before Kurt could say a word of protest, the guy had snatched the glass out of his hand and was racing to the other end of the tent. Kurt sighed and resumed what he was doing before the punch had been all but shoved into his face: people-watching. Because honestly, there was nothing greater than that.

He watched Richie and his girlfriend getting it on by the food table. Seriously, couldn't they find a better spot? As much as Kurt would appreciate free gum, he didn't need it wet with spit and stuck to the side of his quiche.

He watched Mr. Lennard and Ms. Kabert also getting it on and maybe this means Ms. Kabert won't be a "Ms." much longer, but as much as Kurt liked romance, watching teachers was just _wrong _so he turned away.

He watched David stirring his beloved bowl of punch much too excitedly than should be normal.

He watched Wes saunter over to David with the two glasses. He whispered something to his other half, and the two snickered like little children frying an ant with a magnifying glass.

And he watched Blaine making his way over with a charming smile that was _oh so Blaine._

There was no way to stop the smile that broke out on Kurt's face as his boyfriend approached. "There he is. After ten minutes, I was afraid Wes and David might've eaten you."

Blaine was bouncing on the balls of his feet and chewing on his lower lip.

"Blaine, you look as if you need to pee."

It seemed as if Blaine was on the verge of tears with the way his eyes were watering up.

"What did you drink, Lake Mead?"

Whatever Kurt was expecting in response, he was not at all prepared for what came out of his boyfriend's mouth:

"Do you mind if I hang over here until it's safe where I farted?" Blaine exploded into something reminiscent of a jumping bean, hopping around in hysterics slapping random people on the shoulder.

Kurt just stared. "I'm sorry, but, _what_?"

Blaine fell onto the ground laughing, clutching his sides. "It's... s-s-s... sup-p-p-posed t... to be... a... p-p-p-ickup line!" he spluttered out.

"A _romantic_ pickup line?" Okay, maybe this was a defining moment in their relationship. Maybe all perfect couples experienced this.

Blaine stopped shaking and stood up, suddenly composed. He took a deep breath and placed his hands on Kurt's shoulders so they were staring into each other's eyes. Kurt sighed, losing himself in the beauty that was _Blaine_. Getting all caught up in the deep, hazel depths of his eyes. Catching his tiny reflection in the dark pupil, and also catching the noticeable sparkle that almost made Kurt forget about Blaine's horrid outburst until-

"I want to park my convertible in your garage."

Kurt's jaw dropped open while Blaine dropped onto the grass again, rolling around in laughter. "Blaine! What the...? How...? What the hell, Blaine!" He knelt down, ignoring the odd looks that they were receiving from various others. Kurt slapped his boyfriend repeatedly on the face. "Blaine *_slap_* get *_slap_* a grip *_slap_*! You are acting so *_slap_* fricking childish *_slap_*! And don't get me started *_slap_* on your *_slap_* fricking pickup lines *_slapslapslapslapslap_*!"

But there was no way that Blaine was letting up.

Kurt leapt to his feet with an annoyed huff, and stalked towards the opposite end of the tent where Wes and David were possibly plotting their takeover of Meijer's because he just _really _needed to get away from his boyfriend's immaturity right not. All the while he was muttering to himself about how he should block Family Guy from Blaine's television.

He finally reached the Devious Duo and sighed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. He must have sighed pretty damn loud because they turned towards him simultaneously (or maybe they were just freaks like that). "You know what? My life is pretty pathetic if you two are most sane people I can hang out with right now!" Kurt proceeded to yell at their faces.

They blinked.

"I mean, _seriously_! Blaine was talking to me about _farting _and _gross_ that is just _not at all Dalton_. And how he wanted to fricking _park his convertible _in my _garage_, I mean that is just _sick _on so many different lev-"

"Excuse me for interrupting."

Kurt wheeled around to face a fresh, calm Blaine. He missed Wes and David behind him, who blinked again, and it would have been totally cool that they did it simultaneously just like the last time, except he was too busy trying to be mad at his boyfriend. He crossed his arms and pursed his lips. "Yes, _dear_?"

Blaine cleared his throat. "I'm not trying to make a pass."

Kurt and Wevid each raised an eyebrow, and again that would have been _totally awesome_ if they hadn't been listening to Blaine, who had taken hold of Kurt's hand. Kurt tried _soveryhard_ not to melt into the touch. He needed to concentrate... concentrate... _ohsosoft_... concentrategoddamnit on what Blaine was saying.

"But you must be leaving the country..."

Time stood still.

And almost as if he was watching this in slow-mo, Kurt saw Blaine's hand leave his own, smoothly rise to Kurt's face as if to caress him...

Then somebody decided to press the TURBO!BUTTON, and Kurt was watching Blaine fricking _smack his butt_.

"...IF YOU'RE PACKING THAT MUCH ASS!"

Now, how would one react in this sort of situation? Well, under normal circumstances, Kurt probably would've blushed beet-red because he was really turned on by actually getting _tapped_. But then again, "_Excuse me for interrupting, I don't mean to make a pass, but you must be leaving the country if you're packing that much ass," _did not at all fall under "normal circumstances".

This is why Kurt, in all his bitchy-diva glory, snatched up the Punch Bowl of Doom and smashed it on his boyfriend's head.

Blaine teetered on the spot before collapsing in a heap of punch bowl and wet clothes. Kurt avoided the bewildered looks on his schoolmates' faces, and especially avoided the look on Mr. Lennard's face that said, "Detention, Hummel." _Well, doesn't he have some fricking snogging to get to?_

Kurt turned his back on the whole scene and faced Wes and David, who were staring at the (clearly) unconscious Blaine with amused/frightened expressions. "What?" Kurt protested. "I did what I had to do." He sniffed airily, and added, "He deserved it."

That was when Wevid cracked up unexpectedly, clapping each other on the shoulders. "Dude, Blaine was _drunk_!" Wes exclaimed.

"Excuse me?" Kurt spat.

"We had him chug three glasses of the punch when he came over earlier!" laughed Wes.

David managed to cough out, "It was fricking spiked, man!"

"We used some tropical coolers that we juiced up with our spare stash of booze!"

Kurt blinked. "Again, excuse me?" _But there is really no need for that, because the whole sour-lemapple thing totally makes sense now, and I'm not going to get an answer because they're too busy laughing anyways. And really, who has a _spare stash of booze_?_

Kurt went back to his boyfriend, passed out on the floor. He suddenly felt extremely awful: Blaine was going to have one major hangover-and-punch-bowl-smash-induced headache when he woke up. Kurt managed to grab his hand and kiss it softly. However, he puckered slightly from the sour pinemon stickiness that coated Blaine's hand, and unfortunately, the rest of his body. _Oh well, perhaps this means a shower later. Preferably a joint one_. Maybe this _was_ a defining moment in their relationship, where Kurt will lovingly nurse Blaine back to normalcy after his second drunken adventure (Rachel can kiss his ass). Without bitterness of course, because he secretly enjoyed having not-so-sweet pickup lines used on him.

Kurt glanced up from his boyfriend to Wevid and smiled despite himself. He turned towards the crowd and his smile may have just gotten a thousand times wider. And why? Well, maybe when Wevid explained the punch situation to Kurt they may have just "explained" it a couple hundred decibels too loud.

Mr. Lennard's lipstick-covered face spelled, "Detention, boys."

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><p><strong>Reviews are great! They would do <em>wonderful<em> things to my convertible if I had one!**


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